


To Keep It All In

by rabbitxheart



Series: Widofjord Week 2019 [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Sick Character, Widofjord Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 08:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19247188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbitxheart/pseuds/rabbitxheart
Summary: “What the fuck was that?” Beau says, staring at the giant fungus on the floor of the cave.“I have a vague idea. It looks like a myconid, but it looks… wrong,” Caduceus says, inspecting the thing with his staff. “Did anyone physically touch it with their bare hands?”There’s a chorus of no and what the fuck, ew. Then, a bit beyond the myconid, a groan.“I think I-” is all Fjord gets out before he stumbles right into Yasha.





	To Keep It All In

“What the fuck was that?” Beau says, staring at the giant fungus on the floor of the cave.

“I have a vague idea. It looks like a myconid, but it looks… _wrong_ ,” Caduceus says, inspecting the thing with his staff. “Did anyone physically touch it with their bare hands?”

There’s a chorus of _no_ and _what the fuck, ew_. Then, a bit beyond the myconid, a groan.

“I think I-” is all Fjord gets out before he stumbles right into Yasha who just barely catches him by the armor, hauling him up and over her shoulders.

“He’s going to need more healing than I can give him before I’ve slept, I’m afraid,” Caduceus tuts. “He’s not dying, but it’s bad.”

“Oh no, I’m all out of spells,” Jester says, running up to help Yasha hold him up.

“Me too,” Yasha says, brows knit as Jester and her try to keep him steady as he slumps even further.

“We can’t stay here, it’s too dangerous for all of us,” Beau says, turning to Caleb. ” Can you get us back to the house?”

Caleb doesn’t say anything, eyes lighting up as he prepares to cast with what little energy he has left, his hand on Fjord’s shoulder as the others lay theirs on Caleb’s arms and back, and with a flash, they’re gone.

 

They land in the kitchen, a chair or two clattering to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb says, swaying on his feet. “I aimed for his bedroom.”

“Need any help?” Jester asks as Yasha simply bends down and lifts Fjord over a shoulder.

“I have him, it’s okay.” Yasha adjusts him a little. “Caduceus?”

“Carry him to his room, I’ll go see what I can find. He’ll be very disoriented. If he talks, just let him talk. Arguing won’t do any good. Stop him if he tries to get up.”

“How long for? I need sleep before I can heal him.”

“The rest of us take turns to watch him, then,” Beau says. “I can go first.”

“I need to keep an eye on him the first hours and I might need Yasha’s help if he gets unruly,” Caduceus says. “Beau second.”

“Sounds good. Caleb needs rest, I’ll take third.” Nott turns to him. “I’ll wake you up.”

“That is fine, Frumpkin will wake me up when it is time,” he says, Frumpkin following Yasha up the stairs, careful not to trip her. “He can’t die?”

Caduceus smiles.

“He’s not dying. He is just very, _very_ high.”

 

 

Beau knocks on the door a couple of hours later, sleep feeling far away still.

“How’s he holding up?”

“He is… Talkative,” Yasha says. “Also he thinks we’re tall?”

“I think it’s best we don’t tell him about this in the morning if he doesn’t remember it.” Caduceus thankfully looks more tired than worried.

“Is he gonna make a pass at me or?” Beau says, eyeing Fjord’s form warily. “Are you?”

“I don’t even know you,” he says, face still half in the pillow.

“Oh. Okay, so that’s how it is,” Beau nods, taking a seat as Caduceus pats her shoulder and walks out. “It’s Beau.”

“Beau? You’re a pain in the ass,” he says, and Beau gives Yasha the finger when she hears her snort on her way out. When she looks back, Fjord’s smiling to himself. Relaxed like this, his tusks stick out just a little. “You’re great.”

“You’re giving me mixed signals here, dude.” Beau uncrosses her arms, unsure of what to do with herself.

He curls in on himself, shivering a little, and Beau gets a second blanket from where she’s borrowed it before, draping it over him.

“First mate,” he mumbles, the shivering lessening just a little.

“Damn right, Captain,” she agrees, giving Frumpkin a quick scritch, then settles on the chair.

 

 

“I know I said to Caddy I should have tried touching it but you really do look like shit,” Nott concludes after watching Fjord get sweatier and sweatier. She crosses her legs on the small spot of his mattress she’s stolen.

“Don’t feel so good,” he says, shuddering. “Don’t like it.”

“You must’ve been sick before at some point, what do you usually do?”

“Hide.”

Nott pauses, looks. Really _sees_.

Nott sees the shivers wracking his body, the way he curls into the corner of the bed. And Nott, Nott may think Fjord is an asshole half of the week and a moron the rest of it, but she knows a scared kid when she sees one. Luc would have night terrors with his fevers, nights spent soothing her terrified child as well as she could, somehow running on nothing as she watched over him sleeping. A familiar, safe face when everything else seemed out to get him.

And Fjord never had that, did he?

A gentle touch stirs her out of her thoughts. When she looks down, he’s caressing her hand with a reverence she’s never seen on his face, despite all the things they’ve seen together.

“Fjord? Why would you hide?”

 

 

The door to Fjord’s room opens just as Caleb comes up the stairs.

“Frumpkin said you were going downstairs, I- have you been crying?” Caleb looks at her, then into the room. “Is he being mean?”

“No, no.” Nott reassures him. “I’ll be back with some soup.”

“Soup?” Caleb stops her with a gentle tug at her hand, doubt still clear in his voice.

“He...” She trails off. Shakes her head. “He told me. What it was like when he was a child and got sick. Then he saw my skin and asked if I was his mom.” Caleb flinches, and determination comes over Nott’s face. “I’m not _his_ mom, but I’m _a_ mom. And I’m making a sick boy some goddamn soup,” she says, nodding once for good measure.

Caleb nods back, and it feels like a conspiracy, something they’ll never talk about to protect the one it’s about.

“He’s still out of it. Send me a message if you need me to come back quicker. He calms down if you pet his hair and you can distract him with Frumpkin.”

“Danke,” Caleb nods, squeezing Nott’s hand a little before she leaves.

 

“Where did she go?” Fjord asks from the bed, curled up on his side with a familiar lump of orange fur against his chest.

“She went to get you something to make you feel a little better. You two look cozy.”

Caleb sees the chair pushed to the wall, the way the covers are pushed back from the edge of the bed, and it doesn’t take a keen mind to imagine Nott sitting there. He smiles and sits down as well, folding a leg under him, cat and half-orc within easy reach.

“Say hi, Frumpkin,” Fjord says, gently manipulating Frumpkin’s paw to wave.

“Hallo, Frumpkin.” Frumpkin greets him with a murp but stays where he is, sluggishly blinking as Fjord pets him. “How are you feeling, Fjord?”

“Beau said I was tripping major ballsack but I don’t know what that means,” he says mournfully. For the first time, the drawl isn’t there at all. He sounds small, unsteady. Caleb reaches out slowly, making sure Fjord sees it coming, and places a careful hand on his forehead. Not quite as high of a fever as before, but still not good.  

Fjord looks up, his pupils so big they’re almost round, and it sinks in for Caleb that Fjord is, indeed, still tripping major ballsack.

“She meant that you are very high,” Caleb explains, runs an experimental hand through Fjord’s already messy hair.

“Oh. Did Molly offer me something?” Fjord says, moving to get up, and Caleb gently keeps him down with a hand on the round of his shoulder. Seemingly accepting his fate, Fjord sinks back into the pillows.

“No, he didn’t. You fought a giant mushroom.”

“Did I win?”

“You did.”

Fjord looks very pleased with himself, then resumes petting Frumpkin, and Caleb can’t stop the chuckle.

“Caleb is so nice to let me borrow you,” Fjord says into his fur.

“Frumpkin likes you, it’s not a hardship for him.” Frumpkin doesn’t say anything, but the purring increases and he twists into Fjord’s chest. Caleb slips his hand from Fjord’s shoulder and strokes it down Frumpkin’s now exposed belly. “Besides, he is good at comforting.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Caleb tries, stroking his hair again. When Caleb hazards the glance of a thumb over Fjord’s cheek it comes away wet. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

 

Silence falls over them, Frumpkin’s purr the only thing beside their breathing, and for a while Caleb thinks he’s fallen asleep, still and breathing steady. Then a hand closes over his, and Fjord lifts his hand up until lips brush over Caleb’s knuckles, and Caleb himself doesn’t dare breathe at all.

“I didn’t think about friendship much, before. Real friendship. Didn’t really get it.” Fjord opens his eyes again, this time looking right at Caleb. "Didn't think about love much either."

Pupils dilated.

“Fjord. You are _very_ high.”

“You don’t believe me,” Fjord says, a humorless laugh stuck in his throat. He has yet to let go of Caleb’s hand, though.

“I want to, I do,” Caleb admits, maybe more to himself than to Fjord. “I _really_ want to, but do you remember what you said when I asked you about your accent?”

Fjord just frowns.

“You said you wanted to tell me in your own time. So you wouldn’t feel like something was stolen from you.” Caleb tucks a stray lock of hair behind Fjord’s ear, once again gaining his full attention. “If you wake up and still want this, you can have it.” _If you still remember_ he almost adds, but thinks better of it in time. Still, Fjord’s face lights up.

“Yeah?”

“All you have to do is say the word.”

“What word?” Fjord says in confusion, and Caleb laughs, relief and hope and nerves all in one. “I like it when you laugh.”

“You decide which word. I’ll understand.”

 

 

Caleb hears when Jester gets up, hears her shuffle around next door until she tiptoes into the room, half awake and still in her pyjamas.

“He’s awake, no need to sneak,” Caleb assures her, and she relaxes a bit. “Nott was here with some food for him not too long ago.”

“ _Jessie_ ,” Fjord says, dragging out the vowels. “Did you bring the unicorns?”

“Hi, Fjord. How are you feeling?” She brushes his forehead, shaking her head when she feels how warm he is.

“ _Unicorns_ , Caleb,” Fjord says to Caleb, not quite realizing she’s still there. “I didn’t even know they existed and she has like...” He starts counting on his fingers, losing track somewhere between one and two.

“Has he been like this all night?” Jester says, eyeing him in surprise.

“It comes and goes. One minute he’s talking and the other he’s incoherent and shivering despite the blankets. This is closer to the latter.”

“Oh no,” Jester says. “We better do something about this. Lay on your back, Fjord. Caleb, scoot over.”

“Don’t go,” Fjord says, his hold on Caleb’s sleeve surprisingly solid.

“I won’t, I just need to give her room to work.”

“I need you to be super super still, okay?” Fjord nods as she starts measuring the diamond dust from the small pouch she always carries with her. “Trust me?”

Fjord nods and allows her to tip him until he’s flat on the bed.

“Good,” she smiles. “Let’s get you back to normal.”

He hugs Frumkin closer with one hand, squeezing Caleb’s with the other, and Jester gets to work.

 

 

It’s a testament to Caleb’s comfort at this point that he:

  1. Doesn’t hear Fjord sneak up behind him while he does the dishes.
  2. Doesn’t send fireballs flying in his general direction before he realizes who it is.



As it is he barely startles when Fjord suddenly appears, barefoot and looking significantly healthier.

“Ah. Feeling better?”

“Much,” Fjord nods. “Need some help?”

“Nein, danke. There is still some lunch if you want it,” Caleb says and nods to the counter next to him. He opens his mouth to say something else, but there’s the electrifying feeling of Fjord’s hands resting on Caleb’s waist and suddenly Caleb doesn’t remember.

“Thanks. I’m starving,” Fjord says, reaching for it, his chest just barely brushing Caleb’s back. ”Hey, by the way?”

“Ja?”

Fjord presses a kiss to Caleb’s face, just beneath his cheekbone.

“Word.”


End file.
